The Lost Hour

I checked the briefcase. It was still handcuffed to my wrist, and still locked. Even so, it seemed to me that it was lighter.


History Poem by Iris Carden How will history remember our times? How will our story be told? Will it recall how people lost their minds and hoarded toilet paper like a dragon’s gold? Will tomorrow’s people understand the fear of those who were vulnerable, who were weak or sick or old, when life seemed so…… Continue reading History

She is Me

She is Me Poem by Iris Carden She is five, a seemingly innocent child dressed up like a little princess. She lives in an adult world, The person closest to her age that she knows is the bogeyman who lives in her home and uses her body as a plaything. She has constant nightmares, both…… Continue reading She is Me